Tip O’Neill

Thomas P. “Tip” O’Neill served in the U.S. House of Representatives from 1953 to 1987. His 10-year tenure as Speaker of the House was the longest consecutive run in U.S. history. Here he recalls growing up in Boston with his widower father, his relationship with President Reagan, and how the pendulum swings in American politics and will swing back.

October, 1986: Weaned on the New Deal and deeply committed to an activist federal government, Thomas P. “Tip” O’Neill, 73, is a phenomenon, a living embodiment of what previous generations of Irish have brought to U.S. politics. This November he will retire from Congress and complete 10 years as Speaker of the House of Representatives, the longest political tenure in that job in the nation’s history.

Nicknamed for a shrewd baseball player who frequently tipped so many foul balls that pitchers were repeatedly forced to walk him, O’Neill has always excelled at the sport of politics. After 46 scandal-free years of winning elections, he has long been regarded as the pillar of the Democratic Party.

Indeed, his imposing size, that busted plum nose, his rumpled shirt and his shock of white hair have made him easy to caricature as the quintessential Boston Irish politician — a fact about which O’Neill is intensely proud.

His down-to-earth manner befits the no-nonsense style of the grandson of a bricklayer from County Cork who became Speaker of the House, in effect the third most powerful job in America.

Shaped by the Irish working class neighborhood of North Cambridge where he grew up. O’Neill has forever been the champion of the underdog. He readily admits he was also influenced by the hardships of the Depression and makes no apologies for a political philosophy that his critics have called old hat and out of style. “I’m not one of those save-the-whale liberal types,” says O’Neill. “I’m a gut liberal, a  job and work and wage liberal.”

There are those activist Irish Americans who hold that O’Neill has a blind spot when it comes to the nationalist underdogs in Northern Ireland, that he has turned his back on them. During the interview he was at his most vehement in denying that.

O’Neill, who was born five years before President Kennedy, is a product of local polities with deep roots in his constituency. He was elected to the United States Congress when he was 39, but he had already been a Massachusetts legislator for 16 years and Speaker of the Massachusetts House for four years.

Indeed, until he took office as Speaker of the House, O’Neill actually lived in North Cambridge. He has, in fact, only recently sold his house there in preparation for moving to his retirement home in Cape Cod, though he does not rule out serving some of that retirement time as U.S. Ambassador to Ireland.

His mother died of tuberculosis when he was a year old and he was raised by his father, who was a City Councilor and Superintendent of Sewers in Cambridge. “He taught me loyalty, charity, and understanding of people,” says O’Neill. “And he taught me that I’m truly my brother’s keeper and to always remember my roots.”

O’Neill was lampooned by the Republicans in the 1980 election campaign as the symbol of a bloated, over the hill, free-spending government. In 1981, the Republicans and dissident Democrats seized control of the House and passed Reagan’s tax and budget cutting programs to which O’Neill was opposed, and for the first time during his tenure, O’Neill’s control of the House slipped.

In 1982, the Democrats recaptured 62 seats and O’Neill regained effective control of the House. “We tried to run against him,” said Republican representative Dick Cheney, “but he hung in there — he was able to bounce back.”

It is perhaps this ability to persevere and not back down from what he refers to as his “Progressive and liberal politics” that has most distinguished O’Neill’s career. “If I can be remembered,” says O’Neill, “and as someone who never forgot his roots and as someone who had a part in changing America, then I will be happy.”

The interview took place in O’Neills stately office in the Capitol. As a Cambridge resident and member of his constituency I was warmly welcomed — proving once again the old O’Neill axiom that “all politics are local and you have first to take care of your constituents.”

He talks easily and at length about his Irish connections and his political career and, in fact, kept the Governor of Massachusetts waiting outside his office for 45 minutes in order to continue his interview with Irish America.

Irish America: What is your family background and when did you begin researching it?

O’Neill: I was always interested but I suppose I started in earnest when I went to Ireland i n 1956. I was one of those congressmen sent over to represent the U.S. and to take part in ceremonies honoring John Barry, the “Father of the American Navy”, who was born in Wexford. While I was there I went down to County Cork to the town of Mallow, where my father’s parents both came from.

In 1845, my grandfather Patrick O’Neill, then only 13, was brought to this country with his brothers to work with the New England Brick Company. In1856, at the age of 24, he returned to Ireland, married Julia Fox from his home town and 10 years later they came back to America. My wife Millie and I were excited about finding his birth and marriage records and all that, so when we arrived ini Mallow I went up to the rectory of the local church and this lady, I think she was the priest’s housekeeper, answered the door.

“Hello,” I said, “My name is Tip O’Neill, I’m a congressman from the United States and I’d like to look at your baptismal records to find out about my ancestors.”

“Sure,” she answered, “aren’t you people bothering us every day? The Monsignor is asleep, if you’re wanting to check the records go down to the Town Hall and check them there like everyone else,” and she sent me on my way [laughs]. That was my first trip over there.

Your mother’s people were also Irish from the North, I understand.

Yes, the other side of the family comes from Donegal and Belfast. My mother’s name was Rose Tolan. Grandpa’s Tolan came from Belfast and talked with a Scotch burr and Grandma Nolan came from Buncrana, County Donegal. She was from an interesting background too. The story goes that a German sea captain by the name of Alec Thorsen came into the harbor of Buncrana in 1807. He fell in love with a local girl, Unity (Winnie) MacManus, went back to Germany and came back after he sold the ship and married Unity. They had 11 children, 10 boys and one girl; the one girl is my grandmother. She married Michael Nolan from Belfast and came to this country. One of my sons is called Michael Nolan O’Neill.

Any direct connections still to the old sod?

On certainly, the grandparents on my father’s side were brought over to work in the brickyards. When I was a kid everybody in the brickyard was Irish. It was tough menial work, pickaxing the clay, then it was carried by donkeys up to the kiln to make the bricks.

My father was a bricklayer, then he had his own contracting company. Later he was elected to the City Council and finally he became Superintendent of Sewers in the city.

He didn’t want his children to do bricklaying work. So I have a brother, a lawyer, a graduate of Holy Cross and Harvard, who became a judge. My sister Mary is a college graduate who has a bunch of degrees and was the first master of the public schools in our city. And I graduated from Boston College and went to the legislature and had an insurance business and ultimately became Speaker of the House.

That’s the way it is in America with the Irish, every generation wants the next generation to do better than they did.

Do you go back to the old neighborhood?

I still have great affinity for the old neighborhood, but of course the neighborhood is gone. When I graduated from St. John’s High School everybody was Irish, except for a few Italians and French Canadians who came in and took over the brickyards and after them, the Italians.

Now, of course, there are no brickyards, the land is too valuable. In fact, I hear the average rent in the area is now $890 a month, unbelievable in my time. I hear there’s a house on Cambridge Street similar to mine where the landlord brings in $6,000 a month in rents, again absolutely unbelievable in my time. 

What do you remember about growing up Irish in Boston?

I can remember clearly the day the hunger striker Terence MacSwiney, Mayor of Cork, died. I was at the Knights of Columbus Hall taking Irish step dancing lessons and Gaelic there. That was in 1921, our area was all Cork people and everyone was very upset. De Valera was an Irish folk hero for us. I met him on several occasions. I read about all the Irish history. Parnell is my hero, by the way.

Growing up as a youngster you were instilled with these things. The first was the “No Irish Need Apply” signs and what those signs were doing to the Irish, the second was the way your fathers came over here – off the famine ships – and you thanked God they were able to work to provide for their families. I thought of my poor great-grandmother for instance, seeing her three boys, including my grandfather, leave, thinking she would never see them again.

The third thing of course, was a united Ireland, which was a key issue. A local congressman from the area lost his seat when he nixed a vote on it.It was just as much part of your faith as anything else.

So,it was a complete Irish American neighborhood, but life wasn’t centered on the old country. We hung around the Knights of Columbus, Holy Name Society and the Church, that was where most of the social activity was happening. I suppose it would have to be called a ghetto but those people didn’t think so.

Regrettably, there was a period in this country, and the Irish and Italians took part in it, when people sought to forget their roots and the sentiment was, “Just be an American.” Now that’s all gone again and it’s a good thing. Where you come from and who you owe it to is vital.

That unique Boston background must have bred a particular style of politicking in you. The Mrs. O’Brien story, for instance, is one that is always told about you as an illustration of how to work Boston politics. [O’Neill would always personally call and ask Mrs. O’Brien to vote. In one election he neglected to and she voted for the opposition. When he called and asked her why, she said: “People always like to be asked, Mr. O’Neill.]

O’Neill laughs. Oh yes. Mrs. O’Brien taught me a lesson – voters always like to be asked – I learned that “people like to be asked and people like to be thanked. It’s as simple as that. Even walking up to the polls with my wife, I say, “Millie make sure you give me a vote,”ands says, “Thank you for asking me.” [laughs]. Never take anything for granted in politics.

It must seem a long way from those days to the powerful position of Speaker, the main spokesman for the Democratic Party against this administration.

Not really. I think I’ve handled it pretty well. I was just reading the other day that my popularity is 63 percent, the highest it’s ever been. I spoke up in Rochester, New York, the other night andI couldn’t believe it, 2,000 people turned and paid $5 to hear me speak. Recently at the University of Kansas State, I drew the largest crowd ever.

I’m drawing crowds out there. I stuck to my principles, stuck to my philosophy. I stuck with my guns along the way when I was a lone voice crying against this President that he was hurting America, doing things wrongly.

Now, I know he is a beloved person, there’s never been anyone more popular than this President, many people don’t basically like his philosophy but they do love him. That may rub off and hurt George Bush later on.

I think people admire my stand, people have respect for the fellow that stands up and is the opposition and doesn’t deviate, doesn’t let them con him out of his position.

You and President Reagan have often been portrayed by cartoonists as two Irish fishwives haggling. When you and he meet do you ever share thoughts about Ireland and your Irish roots?

No, not really. We swap stories. You know we had a fellow in Boston called Madden, who told the “Uncle Dinny” stories. He was the greatest storyteller I ever heard. He used to go to the local picnics and outings. All the stories he told were picked up by Pat O’Brien the film actor on the West Coast, and he was using the same character.

Stories like:
Uncle Dinny was walking down the street and he meets the priest, who says to him, “Dinny, what’s the matter with you? You took an oath only 30 days ago that you would never drink again.”
“I haven’t taken a drink, father,” said Dinny. “You have so,” said the priest, “You’ve got one foot on the curbstone, and one in the gutter. You’re drunk.”
“Oh, glory be,” said Dinny, “That’s great news. I thought I was gone lame.” [Laughs].

Anytime I see the President he tells me a story and it’s an Uncle Dinny story, different twist maybe, but he’s picked them up from Pat O’Brien.

Now seriously, I get along with him all right. No, we never talk about Ireland. To be perfectly truthful, I see him as someone who forgot his roots, forgot where he came from. He made it big after the war and went the other road. That’s his business.

What is the main source of tension between you?

When he tries to cut necessary government programs, I get mad. I believe the government is the friend of the people. We grew at the same time. I can look at his life and he can look at mine with an understanding that we shared many common experiences. We are only a couple of years apart.

Now he likes to talk about the good old  days – that’s a myth – he himself lived on the other side of the railway tracks. Fifty percent of America was impoverished, 25 percent were unemployed. He and I were two of the lucky ones who went to college. He had his scholarship paid by football.

Back then, only three percent had health insurance and only eight percent had pensions. Today, 65 percent go to college, everybody has some kind of health insurance, there’s Medicare, everybody has some kind of insurance policy, social security gives them comfort and eases the strain at the twilight of their careers.

We have brought poverty from 50 percent down to 11 percent, though it’s gone up to16 percent again, and I don’t like to see that. The field of education has been the big growth area in America. Nowadays, 80 percent of the successful people in America, somewhere along the line, had their education subsidized by the taxpayer at community college, city college, state college, or loan grant college.

Why should we pull the ladder up behind us? That’s what I argue. He argues that you make it on your own. I don’t know how he forgets where he came from. We argue about that a lot.

His views are pretty prevalent though.

Right now, but the pendulum swings in politics and will continue to swing back and forth. The things I fight for and will continue to fight for are not too popular, particularly with the yuppies of America who had it too easy and don’t know the trials of their heritage, but it will swing back.

To continue reading this interview click here to go to Irish America’s digital issue for October 1986.

This excerpt is taken from an interview with Susan O’Grady Fox in 1986. Thomas P. O’Neill retired from Congress later that same year. He died in 1994.